Epiphany - the Rev. Gigi Miller
Multiple sources tell us that human beings make an average of 32,000 choices every day. And if you’re asking how “sources” know this, I’m not sure, but I hope some poor research assistant didn’t have to make a tick mark every time they decided to take a gulp of probably much-needed coffee. Most of our decisions are barely conscious, like coffee drinking, but many require discernment. Discernment helps us choose not only between good and bad options, but, more often, between good and better ones. An epiphany is a revelation, like the one we observe today – the manifestation of God in the form of Jesus. To understand a revelation and choose our response, we use a discernment process, like the magi in Matthew’s Gospel.
The magi – a word often translated from the original Persian as wise ones - study the stars and discover one of particular significance, rising with an uncommon brilliance. The wise ones want to share in something momentous – maybe even life-changing - much like folks in our century find the best sights for viewing a total eclipse. Curiosity reveals possibilities that require a choice, in this case, to follow a star.
Matthew doesn’t tell us that these travelers were royalty, nor does he say how many went on this adventure, but it’s safe to assume there were more than three magi, since they were traveling from Persia, what is modern-day Iran. They’d need a whole crew to tend the camels, gather provisions, and maintain the right course. Most ancient people associated celestial events with the birth of kings; bringing along some gifts for the new ruler seemed like a prudent idea. These wise ones know any successful endeavor requires planning and community involvement, important aspects of the discernment process.
Even with careful preparation, though, mistakes are made. The magi’s star maps point them to Judea, a small Roman-occupied province, and still thinking of a royal birth, they make their way to its capital, Jerusalem, and Herod, a ruler installed and controlled by the empire. In answer to their queries, Herod’s priests and scribes quote Hebrew Scripture that directs them to Bethlehem; Herod suspiciously asks for a status report while declining to join the caravan. So, maybe discernment includes not making assumptions and asking the right questions.
The star miraculously appears again as soon as the wise ones leave Herod’s court and leads them all the way to Jesus. Before they can offer the newborn their gifts, the magi fall to their knees in recognition of Jesus’ divinity. And Jesus, God made manifest, gazes at them – Gentiles, non-Jews – and lovingly includes them in God’s plan of restoration. Whatever they were before, however wise they believed themselves to be, and whatever they do with this new revelation, these magi are changed and choose another road. Discernment invites transformation.
We too can find God in unexpected places, even as God searches for us. Paul reminds the Ephesians and us that, with Jesus’ appearance in the world, “we have become heirs, fellow members of the same body, and sharers in the promise of Christ Jesus.” Our response to the holy epiphany determines how we choose to share this inheritance of God’s grace. We can succumb to the discord and bitterness of earthly power, or we can take a different road toward wholeness and abundant love.
In a few weeks, St. Andrew’s will lose one of our most trusted guides in this journey, our beloved rector, Mother Brenda. Though we wish her well as she embarks on her own Spirit-led path, we will miss Mother Brenda’s calming presence and unwavering focus on God’s intention. The choices that lie before us require the tools of discernment we saw in the magi’s tale.
We won’t have to look to the heavens for celestial traces of God; we’ll find the face of Jesus in each other - those we meet at the Food Pantry or on Saturday mornings, the friends to whom we take communion, the people we meet at the grocery store. As we listen together to the hopes and dreams of our shared ministry, we’ll develop plans for the way forward. Like the magi, we may make mistakes, but like those wise ones, we’ll refine our questions and adjust our presumptions.
Theologian Howard Thurman’s call to mission is especially poignant to us in this season. “When the song of the angels is stilled, When the star in the sky is gone, When the kings and princes are home, When the shepherds are back with their flock, The work of Christmas begins: To find the lost, To heal the broken, To feed the hungry, To release the prisoner, To rebuild the nations, To bring peace among others, To make music in the heart.” Our choices become clear when we heed the Psalmist’s prayer “to deliver the poor who cries out in distress, and the oppressed who has no helper.”
The most carefully constructed discernment plans are bound up in God’s imagination. Naida, a Saturday breakfast team lead, told me about a package she received from her daughter, or rather a package her daughter sent. When Naida opened the box, there were three little presents, a wadded-up bunch of Christmas wrapping and ribbon, and an opened card. In the card, Naida’s daughter had written a lovely letter describing Naida’s generosity and service to others and giving thanks to her mom for her wonderful example of unceasing tenderness. Naida believes that whoever opened the package was impacted by the letter and sent the gifts along, rather than keeping them. We don’t always know where our choices lead or how they affect those around us.
“Lift up your eyes and look around, you shall see and be radiant” Isaiah’s prophetic voice reaches out to us from the time before Christ. Trust is a critical component of discernment. The magi trusted their knowledge and instincts and were rewarded with a vision of the Divine.
During my own discernment, I related a dream to my spiritual director. I was driving along several hairpin turns on a dangerous mountain road; there was no shoulder, nothing except the guardrail between me and the sheer drop. I had a panic attack and started driving off the road, up the mountain, just to get away from the cliff. I found myself tangled in branches and roots of trees, unable to go further. When I looked down at the road I’d abandoned, it opened to a wide multi-lane highway. I told my spiritual director, “If I’d only trusted God, I wouldn’t have been stuck in an even more treacherous path.” She said, “Maybe, but did it ever occur to you that God was on the journey, whichever way you took?”
Whether the path leads to St. Louis, down the block in Encinitas, or halfway around the world, Jesus is waiting for us to participate in God’s radical plan of transformation for this broken world. Paul tells us that “through the church the wisdom of God in its rich variety might now be made known.” May the Spirit’s insight encourage our discernment, inspire our choices, and bind us together in infinite belonging.
